


You'll Get Used to It

by boxoftheskyking



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Multi, Supernatural Consulting Agency, job interview
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxoftheskyking/pseuds/boxoftheskyking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Argent Consulting, California's first choice in supernatural solutions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Get Used to It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarwolfik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarwolfik/gifts).



> Written for the fab lunarwolfik for the Sterek Campaign Charity Auction. Hooray! Sort of an Angel-like thing, with a dash of Torchwood. But mostly just fluffy dialogue.

“So. Thing one.” She doesn’t look up from his resume, he doesn’t look away from the mug of pens on her desk. There is a picture of a teddy bear hugging a heart on it, faded and spill-stained, and it kind of creeps him out a little. “Everyone in this office is sleeping with at least one other person in the office. I suggest you get on that. It keeps things cleaner.”

“Um.” He scratches his nose. “Do you— Is that normally how you start interviews?”

She looks up at him, brown eyes weirdly huge and childlike behind the gallons of eyeliner. “What?”

“Is this a test?”

“Oh. No. No!” She smiles brightly at him. “No, we decided on you on, like, Friday. Or something. Yeah, Friday in the staff meeting. Great references, kickass cover letter, training video was— Well, let’s just say that Boyd has a copy on his personal computer and he may or may not watch it while listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack when he has a bad day.”

Isaac snorts and covers his face with both hands, dropping his notepad on the ground. She giggles at him.

“Believe me, you are not the person who should be embarrassed by that.”

He peeks through his fingers. “Which track?”

“Which— ?”

“Of the soundtrack. Which— Never mind, oh my God, forget it— “

“Rohan, I think. Da-da-da-da-dee-dun-dun …?”

“Yeah. Oh my God.”

“Right? So. You can sleep with him, which would be epic, or me, or him-and-me, or you can get in on whatever the fuck is going on in Stiles-and-Scott-and-Allison Land. Which is probably great, but just … no. Not for me. Just no.”

“Um.”

She smiles reassuringly at him, pushing his notepad out from under her desk with one bare toe. “You don’t have to decide right now! You haven’t even met everybody yet, not as part of the team.”

“Is ‘none of the above’ an option? I’m just— I mean, no offense or anything, you’re—”

She sighs and sets her elbows on the desk. “Look. Isaac. This job is kind of … If you’ve gotten this far, you know what this job is.”

He blinks at her. “I did apply for it. And do the phone interview. And the training video. And the sparring with whoever the fuck that alpha was. And the second interview with Argent. And this interview.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. You can call her Allison, by the way. I know she introduces herself as ‘Argent’ and that’s what most people call her, but she’s really just Allison. Unless you’re Stiles, in which case she's usually Hawkeye.”

“Hawkeye like Barton or Hawkeye like Pierce?”

“Oh my God, Stiles is going to eat you with a spoon.”

“Um—”

“The thing is, Isaac, I like to get the sex thing out of the way up front. Relationships, hookups, marriages – hell, even friendships outside of the office are dangerous. There’s a vetting process, there are background checks. If you sign a contract here, you’re essentially signing away casual sex. We take care of it amongst ourselves, you know. We love each other anyway; it’s default. We love you already, even if we don’t really know you yet. It comes with the territory.”

“Right.”

“So I just— I don’t want it to come as a surprise later, when—”

“It’s not going to be a problem.”

“Okay …”

“I mean, not that I’m not flattered, I am. It’s just not going to be an issue. With anyone outside. Or anyone here. Not an issue.”

“As in—”

“As in nothing to ‘take care of.’ Um. And that’s wildly personal, but I guess that comes with the territory, too.”

“Seriously?”

He puts his face in his hands.

“No, seriously, though,” she leans towards him again. “You’re not making this up to hide some girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever?”

“No. Genuinely not a thing that happens. Or will happen. Or wants to happen. Whatever.”

“This. Is. Fantastic. You have no idea.”

He looks up at her surprised and awkward. 

“Not to be rude, or anything, but there’s all this fucking  _paperwork_ and  _mess_  involved. Ugh. Okay, so there’s this branch in England, right? Keeps having sex with aliens. Or getting possessed by things and then having sex, or having sex with doppelgangers, and— It might actually be in Wales; we just get the emails. Anyway, now there’s all this protocol, like ‘ _Is your partner behaving strangely during sex? Does your partner suddenly do x instead of y after z …_  ’ Most annoying thing ever. You have to ask all these security questions every time they want to try something new, to make sure they’re not a skinwalker or something. Don’t get me wrong, it’s saved us a couple times. Just. Messy.”

He blinks at her, wide-eyed. “Genuinely not an issue.”

She grins at him. “Sweet. And you’re totally bypassing the ‘I’m having sex with a werewolf’ or ‘I’m having sex with a psychopath’ freakout.”

“Werewolves and psychopaths?”

“We’re divided on whether it’s a band name or an album title.”

He scratches his ear. “Album.”

“That’s what I thought. So. That’s some therapy bills saved.”

He gives a little half-grin. “Well, I’m still in therapy anyway, so …”

She frowns at him. “You have to be careful. We’ve all been in an out, seeing different people, but there’s a lot of secrets involved, this whole world—”

“No, mine is totally up to speed. She’s a Practitioner, she just also has a Masters in social work.”

“Seriously? Here in town?”

“Yeah, I’ll get you her card. If you— I mean, just if anyone would ever be interested—”

She stops his rambling, grabbing his hand where it’s been picking at the edge of the desk. She smiles warmly at him, and he’s taken aback again by the sweetness of her face under all the makeup. “Thank you. That would be— That would be amazing. There’s a lot that  … There’s just a lot.”

He lets his eyes glow golden for a moment when he squeezes her hand. “I know.”

“So!” she says brightly, taking her hand back and digging through a folder. “Contracts!”

—-

The first thing Isaac sees when they leave Erica’s office is a fluffy brown blur. When his vision clears, he can process warm arms around his back and a happy voice in his ear saying, “Hey man! All right! I’m so glad you’re staying, this is going to be great, this is going to be awesome, you smell amazing!”

The fluff-ball pulls back and smiles at him crookedly. 

“McCall, right? Scott?”

“Yeah!” He smiles like Isaac knowing his name has just made his life complete for a year. “Yeah, that’s my name!”

“Move on, big guy, let us see the new kid.”

Boyd isn’t as intimidating up close as he is on the website, so Isaac’s heart doesn’t actually stop when his hand is engulfed in one of Boyd’s.

“I hear you liked my training video.”

Boyd gapes at him, nearly going pale, and then mutters, “Erica, I am going to gut you.” Isaac laughs until Boyd pulls him in to a half-hug, half-headlock and ruffles his hair. His face is hot against Isaac’s cheek, and his grin is mostly sheepish.

“No worries, man. I’d like to spar with you sometime. If you want."

“Yeah.” Boyd lets him go and straightens his jacket. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“If you bring the tunes, that is.”

Erica bursts into giggles behind him, and and Boyd pulls her off to the side by the ear.

“Hey, new kid,” Argent smiles brightly at him and squeezes his shoulder.

He dips his head shyly. “Thank you. For everything. I won’t let you down.”

She smiles wider, the steel in her eyes turning warm. “Of course you won’t! That’s why we hired you.”

The last man, all smirks and sidelong glances, sidles up to him and gives him the world’s most obvious once-over.

“Holy shit,” he says finally, like he’s proclaiming the word of God. “I could eat you with a spoon.”

“Don’t eat him with a spoon, Stiles,” Erica calls from under Boyd’s arm.

“Fine.” Stiles steps closer to him, squinting into his face until they are nearly nose-to-nose. Isaac goes a bit cross-eyed. “I have an important question for you.”

“O- Okay.”

“How do you feel about—” Stiles leans closer, squishing Isaac’s nose a bit with his own “—pesto.”

“Pesto?”

“Yes.”

“Um.” Isaac leans back, flicking his eyes between the rest of the staff. They all appear to be waiting on his answer, leaning forward almost imperceptibly. He starts to sweat.

“Um,” he says again. “I’m not sure what you’re—”

“Just answer honestly,” Argent says calmly. “We won’t be mad, either way. We just need to know.”

“I—” Isaac squares his shoulders and squints to look Stiles in the eye. “I don’t really like it.”

Stiles looks at him for a moment, then whoops and throws his hands in the air, high-fiving Argent. 

“Was that right?” he asks, turning to Erica. She sighs.

“Okay, so sometimes we play baseball. Just like— More like stickball, really, in the alley out back or at Scott’s place or whatever. And that’s how we pick the teams. So the heathens like you and Stiles and Allison are on one team and the sane people like me and Scott and Boyd are on another.”

“So we’re even?”

“Except that our consultant, Lydia, went to Mama T’s a couple weeks ago—”

“Didn’t that place get shut down for—”

“Yeah. Exactly. And the last thing she had there was this pesto pizza thing. So now she won’t touch the stuff. And she is the wickedest pitcher you’ve ever seen. So …”

“So I’m on the winning team.”

She growls at him and leans against Boyd. “You just wait and see. We’ll get Derek one of these days.”

“Derek is … ?”

“That alpha you sparred with,” Argent answers. “He says he doesn’t like pesto, but we all think he just doesn’t like anything, so it doesn’t count.”

“Have you thought of coming up with a new system for picking teams?”

They all stare at him and Stiles clicks his tongue. “First day on the job and already making changes. We’ll have to see about this one, Hawkeye. We will have to see.”

She hipchecks him into a desk, sending him sprawling. 

“Okay people, we have reports of a squid up on Jefferson and Pine.”

“A squid?” Isaac asks.

“Jefferson and Pine isn’t close to any water,” Scott says, looking bemused.

“Yes, thank you, darling. That’s why I think it might not be an actual squid. Erica, Isaac, with me. We’ll do some poking around. Boyd, you and Stiles see if something up with Gráinne and her girls—”

“Gráinne,” Stiles says, leaning towards Isaac, “is like a Morrigan. And kind of a harpy. Only, you know, in California. And kind of a stoner, actually.”

“Scott, you pick up Lydia and wait for my call. Yes?”

There is a chorus of yeses, and people start grabbing jackets and bags. 

“When things are calmed down,” Boyd says quietly, “I’ll get you a login and all the alarm passwords.”

“And just when do you anticipate things ‘calming down’?” Erica teases from the doorway.

Stiles sighs and follows her out. “When we’re dead.”

“When we’re dead,” everyone but Isaac echoes, only a little bit weary. He looks around at Boyd, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a thing,” Boyd says. “You’ll get used to it.”


End file.
